


Something Unexpected

by SecondFromTheRight



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Non Comic Compliant, Other, Post-Series, S5 Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:12:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11251944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondFromTheRight/pseuds/SecondFromTheRight
Summary: There's a teenager Buffy doesn't recognise standing in Giles' office, asking to see her. That maybe wouldn't be completely out of the ordinary considering how many potential slayers there are in her life, but this teenager is male.





	1. POV - Buffy

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't read the comics, so while this may use certain comic-like logistics that I'm aware of, they will be very generalised and not comic compliant.
> 
> The updates of this will be much slower than my other story.

“Mr Giles is looking for you.” a potential casually said through Buffy’s open door as she walked past.

“Sure, thanks Jen, always nice when you girls are respectful and polite and everything. Not like I’m the actual Chosen One or anything.” Buffy muttered under her breath as she left the room to go head down and see what Giles wanted. Probably just wanted a report of last night’s slayage, maybe the girls training.

“What’s up, Giles?” Buffy asked, swinging herself into Giles’ office, her hand grabbing onto the doorway. She was surprised to see a teenage boy she didn’t recognise standing next to Giles. He had dark, shaggy hair and seemed to size up Buffy as she entered. Buffy made a face back at him. “Who’s the kid?”

“I’m not a kid.” He answered quickly. Buffy tried not to smile as the stranger’s defensive stance. He may as well have been Dawn with that scowl – or any one of the majority of the potentials.

“He insists on only speaking with you, so I’m currently unclear on who he is.” Giles told her, looking a little warily at her, and a little offended. Buffy’s eyebrows rose as a response, a thoughtful pout taking over her face.

“Well, here’s me.” She told the kid, her arms spread.

“You’re Buffy? Buffy Summers?”

“Pretty sure we just covered that one.”

“The Slayer?”

“Yep. Well, a Slayer.” She still didn’t love the title demotion. Well, sometimes she did, but more often not.

“A? I thought there was only one? Isn’t that the whole point of it?” the boy asked her. He seemed to completely dismiss Giles.

“Long story. There was some magic by a badass wicca, a shiny scythe and hey presto, lots of slayers, no longer just the one… Maybe it’s not that long…” she frowned.

“So,” the stranger hesitated for a moment. “Faith’s alive?” At that, Buffy straightened up in caution. She saw Giles do the same.

“You’re familiar with Faith?” Giles asked him.

“Uh, kinda. I met her. I doubt she remembers me.” Not as informative as she wanted. Buffy started paying real attention to him now. It was possible Faith has just saved him one night and now he was crushing on her or something, but he’d apparently asked for Buffy and the more she studied him, the more vibes were getting sent out. She couldn’t figure out if they were bad or good vibes.

“Who are you?”

“Connor.” He said cautiously, then seemed to watch her for a reaction. She didn’t have one to give him. Faith had never mentioned him to her that she could remember.

“You’re human.” She stated. She could tell that much, but still, something was sending out some kind of power. “I think.” She finished. He looked a little conflicted, teenage angst shining in his body language.

“I’m…I don’t really know what I am. I mean, yeah, I’m human, I am! But I guess maybe I’m something else too. I dunno.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Giles asked him before Buffy decided what approach she wanted to take. There was major vibes now that she’d allowed herself to focus on him.

“Maybe,” the kid answered not looking at either of them. “I don’t really know.” He sighed and looked a little lost. Then he looked back at her. “You’re kind of small.”

“Wanna see small me kick your ass?” she was used to people constantly undermining her based on her size, but it never failed to rile her up. Seeing him smirk back just annoyed her even more.

“I guess that would be entertaining. If you really think you can, that is.”

“Now uh, Buffy, perhaps we should all uh, just calm down, shall we?” Giles tried to reason but she wasn’t listening. The punk kid wanted to see a demonstration, she was happy to oblige at this point.

“I don’t hurt kids.” She delivered, knowing it would get to him after his reaction before.

“Like you’re so much older than me! What are you? Like 22?”

“Hey! Just because I look bright and fresh! You have no idea how much life I’ve lived.”

“Ditto!”

“Uh, Buffy, Connor –“ Giles tried to intervene but neither were listening to him.

“And you think you have any idea what I’ve been through? Ever been to a hell dimension?”

“Actually yes, ha!”

“Oh. Really? What was yours like?”

“It was pretty eugh. Soldier demons wearing skin and working innocents to death. Time –“

“Works differently, yeah, I know.”

Buffy was stunned for a second, realising what he was actually saying. He’d been to a hell dimension? He was just a kid. “You’ve really been to a hell dimension? But you’re just a teenager.”

“I grew up in one.” He told her. She stared at him. Giles was quiet now.

“Are you from –“

“No.” He interrupted her again, seeming to understand what she was trying to ask. She felt bad. How did that happen? 2 minutes ago she was ready to kick him in the shin, or something more grown up. Maybe a leg sweep or something. No, she’d totally wanted to kick him in the shin. “I was stolen from my father and taken there.” She wasn’t sure what look he was giving now. He looked like he was hardening himself, but his eyes flickered back to hers similarly to how they had before, when he was looking for a reaction from her. He was way too broody for a teenager.

“I’m sorry.” She told him. “Is that why you’re here? You want revenge or something?”

“No. The man who took me is dead.”

“Then…? I mean, not to be rude or anything, but I’m still a little confused here.”

“I was told to find you. If I ever need anything, I was told to come find you. That you would help me.”

“By Faith?” she asked, hedging for her earlier theory.

“No. But if she’s alive I don’t know why I wasn’t told to look for her instead. I don’t know why it’s you.”

“Well that’s a little mean. I was the actual slayer you know. Faith only got her slayer gig because I died!”

“You died?”

“Only a couple times!” she defended. God, people really liked to get caught up on that detail.

“Wait, you were the slayer before Faith?”

“Yes! So Faith’s not the only one capable of helping – if that’s what you want, help.” 

He stared at a lower point ahead of him, seemingly thinking something through.

“Connor, who exactly referred you to Buffy?” Giles asked for her. Connor looked up at him, then his eyes shifted back to Buffy through his hair. 

“Does the name Angel mean anything to you?” he asked her. Everything stopped. Everything. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” She heard him, but it was like he was background. Fuzzy or filtered. She could hear Giles starting to fuss too, telling Connor to sit down. She also heard her name, but she couldn’t respond. She was lost to them, all her well-built walls crumbing and taking her down with them.


	2. POV - Connor

Connor watched as Buffy seemed to totally check out or something. The older guy, Mr. Giles, he’d introduced himself as, guided him into a seat.

“I didn’t mean to do that.” He told the man, gesturing towards Buffy and her freak out.

“It’s uh – that is, Angel is a, uh, sensitive subject, for Buffy.” 

Connor looked at Buffy. He’d seen different reactions to his father. A trust Connor didn’t understand, friendship he didn’t think his father deserved, fear which Connor did think was appropriate, and kind of impressive sometimes, when he let himself admit it. But this, whatever Buffy Summers, Slayer, was doing, was a new one.

“Is that good or bad?” he asked Mr. Giles.

“Well it’s, uh.” 

“Does she hate him?” Connor asked outright, tired of the stuttering. He needed to know the situation here. Buffy clearly didn’t know who he was. Connor didn’t really expect her to, but he didn’t know if it was because of a memory change or because she’d never been told about him. Maybe he’d see Faith at some point and that would answer that question at least, if she remembered him. If Buffy hated his father, it was a waste of timing being here. But why would he tell him to go to her for help if she hated him?

“No.” he heard her voice behind him. She sounded so different to what she had when they had been bantering back and forth. She sounded weak. And hurt. “No, I don’t hate him.” She wasn’t looking at Connor, or Mr. Giles. She still seemed dazed.

“Buffy.” Mr. Giles called, concerned. It seemed to shake Buffy out of whatever spell she’d been in. But she didn’t respond to Mr. Giles, instead she zeroed in on him.

“Do you know where he is?” she demanded, getting into his face. “Is he alright?” at least those questions helped answer how she felt about his father better. She was clearly worried.

“I don’t know where he is.” He told her. “But I think,” he looked down, hesitating. He didn’t want to tell her this. He didn’t want to think it himself. “I think he might be…gone.”

“He’s not dead.”

“The last time I saw him he was in a fight he couldn’t win, that he knew he wasn’t going to win.”

“He’s. Not. Dead.” She repeated it slowly, dangerously. He looked her up and down, thinking maybe he was seeing the slayer of her for the first time. Still, it didn’t change reality.

“He hasn’t come to find me since. I’m pretty sure he would have, if he was alive.”

“I would know.” She declared.

“Buffy,” Mr. Giles tried to start again. She turned her eyes on the older man. Determined but wild eyes. 

“No! I’ve told you already Giles. I would know! We’re not doing this again. It’s Angel!”

“Is that a slayer thing? That you think you’d know if he was dead?”

“No. It’s a Buffy and Angel thing.” She told him, seeming proud of it. What the hell was the history between her and his father? “When did you last see him? Where?” she demanded.

“Wolfram and Hart. It’s a –“

“I know what Wolfram and Hart is.” She snapped at him and looked at Mr. Giles with what Connor could only describe as daggers. Mr. Giles seemed to wilt under her stare somewhat, clearing his throat and looking down at his desk. He didn’t know what to expect when he came here but this wasn’t it. He was starting to get a headache. Didn’t his father have any kind of simple relationships with anyone?

“Do you want to spar?” he asked her suddenly.

“What?” At least it had stopped her freak out momentum. 

“You said you could kick my ass. I’m still doubtful. And clearly Angel talk brings up issues. So, wanna spar?”

“Connor,” Mr. Giles spoke to him. “There is plenty of gym area in this facility if you wish to burn some energy, and I’m sure you’ll find a number of potential partners.” He was trying to get rid of him. Connor wasn’t sure if the man realised how obvious he was being. 

“He’ll find one in me. Come on, let’s go.” Buffy told them both. 

“Don’t you think it would be best if we talked, Buffy?” Connor could see this wasn’t going anywhere good anytime soon, but something about Mr. Giles flickered something in Connor. 

“Are you like, the Wesley here?” he asked as if Mr. Giles hadn’t said anything, as if there wasn’t raging tension in the room. It seemed to work as both of them turned to look at him. “He was a way more badass than you, but the English thing and all.”

“You know Wesley Wyndam Price?” the older man asked him. Connor just grunted in the affirmative.

“Do you know where he is?”

“Probably dead too. I think they’re all dead. I couldn’t find any of them.”

“How did you know them?” And there it was. He supposed he couldn’t really put it off anymore. Buffy said she didn’t hate Angel, she seemed worried about him. He hoped that was enough for neither of them to go crazy at him. It was like a friggin’ minefield trying to figure out the dynamics here.

“Angel’s my father.” He admitted. 

Silence. Total silence. And then a high-pitched laugh. 

“No. No way. That’s not possible. I know it’s not possible because there are no little vampires for Angel.” Buffy said.

“I’m not a vampire.” He denied insulted. “I’m just a child of them.”

“Them?” Mr. Giles questioned his wording. Buffy ignored him, mumbling denials. Connor ignored her in turn and spoke to the man across from him.

“My mother was a vampire too. There was a prophecy. It’s this…really weird and messed up kind of thing, okay.” he explained.

“Fascinating.” Mr. Giles breathed. Sure, fascinating, that’s totally how Connor described it. “If I can ask, uh, was Angel aware of your existence from conception? We uh,” his eyes flicked up to Buffy, “Knew Angel. Some years back. And as you can tell, we uh – well, this is news to us.”

“Yes he knew. But I’m not exactly that old. Like I said, grew up in a demon dimension, time moves faster there. I was stolen as a baby, and that was only a few years ago here.”

“Oh, and your uh, mother? You said she was also a vampire?”

“Yeah. Darla?” he offered, seeing if it meant anything. Mr. Giles looked back to Buffy, seeming confused. Out of the corner of his eyes Connor could see Buffy standing still, not reacting to much of anything. Mr. Giles turned back to him.

“Darla died some years ago. Angel uh,” his eyes flicked back to Buffy again, “He killed her.”

Connor sighed. “Yeah, I know. She was brought back.” Mr. Giles eyes widened at that. Connor didn’t know if they believed him or not. This sucked. It was bad enough trying to get the child of vampires thing through to people, but these people apparently knew a bunch of other stuff that made it even more difficult to explain his existence. “Like I said, prophecy. More than one, actually.” He heard a thump behind him and turned to find Buffy on the floor, staring ahead of herself. Mr. Giles got up and went to help her.

“I knew that, Giles. Angel told me. Wolfram and Hart brought her back to drive him crazy. He slept with her. He wanted to lose his soul.”

“Buffy.” Mr. Giles seemed kinda outraged.

“It wasn’t your business.”

“Angelus' return isn’t something you can just –“

“He wasn’t! He didn’t lose his soul.” Buffy defended, causing the man to snap his mouth shut. “It wasn’t happiness. I guess only I have the privilege of ruining him. Sire Darla gets to give him little babies instead” She spoke almost hysterically, laughed without humour. Connor was confused, and unprepared for this, but he was starting to think maybe he could find a lot of answers here.

“You’ve known him as Angelus?” he asked, trying to butt into the discussion again. Buffy raised her head to look at him. Stare at him, more like. Connor could tell she was trying to find his father in him. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

“You’re Angel’s son.” She stated, sniffling. 

“Yeah.” He said simply. She was looking at him much more emotionally that he could deal with. He didn’t know this person, anything about her, and trying to live up to whatever it was she had with his father wasn’t something he wanted to explore. “I have other parents too.” He admitted, trying to distance from his biological father and the legend he seemed to leave wherever he went.

“Other parents?” Mr. Giles questioned.

“My father – Angel, he…did a spell, I guess. I didn’t exactly come back from happily adjusted. Again, childhood in a hell dimension. I was raised there to hate Angel. When I came back, I tried to kill him. A lot. And then some other stuff.” He looked away. He wasn’t getting into that, no matter if they asked him. “I couldn’t deal. I didn’t know who the hell I was or who to trust or what to do. I made some mistakes. Angel did something that gave me another family, a whole other live. A happy one. I had regular, loving parents, perfectly annoying siblings. I didn’t remember my father or anything that had happened. I just remembered my other life. I was happy.”

“But the kind of power required for such a thing…” Mr. Giles trailed off, wondering.

“Wolfram and Hart. I think that’s why he started working there. I think there was a deal, or something.” Silence followed again.

“Oh god.” Buffy broke. Connor ignored her again. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do.

“I met the warlock who did it. The spell was broken. Sort of, at least. I remembered. Wesley seemed to too. But nobody else did. It felt weird, like I wasn’t supposed to have remembered. I didn’t let on that I did, for a while.” He turned his attention on them now, wanting an answer instead of providing information. “Is Faith here? I met her, before. I was wondering if maybe she remembers me?”

“She’s not here at the moment. I can uh, I can telephone her? If you’d like.”

“Will she be anytime in the near future? I’d prefer to see her face to face.” Connor pressed.

“She’s – she’s not due for a few...” he trailed off and turned back to Connor. “Darla, you’re…you’re mother. Is she still alive?”

“No. She staked herself giving birth to me.” Connor said bluntly. Silence followed and Connor was back to questioning if this was a good idea or not.

“I can’t do this.” Buffy announced, panic lacing her voice. She started to make her way to the door.

“Buffy!” Mr. Giles tried to stop her. When she turned to face them, she had tears streaming down her face.

“Giles, please. I can’t.” she left the room and Mr. Giles didn’t try to stop her this time. Connor didn’t know what he was supposed to do now.


	3. POV - Buffy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short. I don't want to mix POVs. The next chapter should be up today too.

She was pounding on a punchbag, hit after hit, over and over, trying to get rid of the stress inside her mind and that was making its way through her body. A son! Angel had a son! A friggin’ teenage son. Angel had a son who wasn’t also her son. Had she known? Had the whatever memory spell been done on her too? If she’d known, how had she reacted? Or more to the point, had they gotten over that reaction because she knew she would have freaked out no matter what. A son. And she couldn’t even be mad at him because he wasn’t here for her to yell at. She didn’t know if he’d ever be here to yell at. Buffy rested her head against the swinging bag, stilling its movement. Tears were filling her eyes and she was breathing way too hard for a slayer going some rounds of punching.

She’d had that argument so many times with Giles before. He thought she needed to accept it, to move on. Accept that Angel was…gone. There was no sign of him. Wolfram & Hart still stood. There had been no sign of any of them. She’d fought it, every step. He couldn’t be gone. She was the only one Angel would ever let defeat him. He would survive anything and anyone. He had to. They were supposed to get another chance. Once she got time to breathe, to process the things she’d ended up being, doing. Once she had been alone for a while, could realise she actually could be alone for a while. Knowing it was okay because another chance would be there, when she was ready. She’d get the chance to be cookies. With him. 

After a while she’d blocked it out, distracted herself. She had a lot of experience of that particular coping mechanism. This time she’d thrown herself into head Slayer role. Giles learned to stop mentioning Angel and his opinion on his undead life. Buffy couldn’t forgive him for rejecting Angel help, for speaking on her behalf and keeping information back from her. But he was still Giles, so she couldn’t completely step away. Instead she shut down and dealt with it the only way she could. Giles stopped saying his name. They all did. If she could just past enough time, make it through; if she could just try harder to be good and do her job, he’d show up. He’d show up in her life when she wasn’t expecting it, like he always did. He’d turn it upside down, but ground her with support and love, like he always did. He’d find her, like he always did. And when that happened she wouldn’t let him leave again, like he always did. But instead his son had walked through the door declaring Angel was most likely dead.

She gave the punchbag a last massive punch, the metal snapping and the bag going flying across the room. She stood with shuttered breaths, trying to get herself under control.


	4. POV - Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm iffy on AtS S3 and S4 so it's entirely possible I have some canon things wrong (specifically about how much Connor knows about Angel's history and curse) I ask readers just to go with it lol.

“Alright, so maybe you can kick my ass.” Connor said, breaking the silence of the room. The only sounds he could hear was her breathing. He’d watched her beat up the punchbag from the doorway, trying to decide whether to interrupt or not. And then she’d punched the bag itself half across the room and he’d been so impressed he decided to take the step in.

She didn’t acknowledge him, her back still turned to him, in the same position she’d been before he spoke.

“Look,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t come here to cause drama or something.” At that she whirled around to look at him.

“Then why did you come?” she confronted him. “What do you want from me?”

“I told you. My father said to –“

“To come see me if you needed help. Yeah, I got that part. But what is that supposed to mean? How did he even tell you that? When? And what do you need my help with?”

Connor sighed. “He left me a letter.”

“A letter?”

“A goodbye letter, I guess.” He saw her flinch at that. “It said if I needed help – if I was in trouble, to find you. Buffy Summers, The Slayer. He said only you, that I wasn’t to let myself be dismissed by anybody but you.”

“Dismissed? That was the word used?”

“Yes. I don’t know what the deal is behind that, but yeah, that’s what it said. That’s why I didn’t tell Mr. Giles who I was.”

“Angel and Giles…they don’t have the best history ever.”

“You don’t seem to have a perfect one with him yourself.” The way her eyes cut to his at his comment made him want to swallow it back, but he wasn’t going to. 

“Anyone ever tell you you're kind of a cheeky brat?” she said with a chirpy tone.

“You’re the one having the tantrum.” He accused right back.

“How dare you.” She said taking a step towards him

“How dare I what? Exist? That’s it, isn’t? You don’t like that I exist.” She stilled her moment again. “Well you know what, sometimes I’m not exactly thrilled about it either. I’m a child of murdering vampires, with stupid superhuman strength that nobody can know about. I sit in class just wanting to be like everybody else but instead I have two lives that compete in my head so much sometimes that it’s like I might forget who I actually am, except I don’t know who I actually am. I look at my parents and know that they don’t even remember that I’m not theirs. So I’m sorry Buffy Summers, Slayer, but I don’t really care about your issues with my father. Or the old guy's. I’ve got my own damn issues with him, alright, and it’s not like I’m going to be able to ask him about them.”

“You’re in college?” was all she said to his rant.

“Uh, yeah. Stanford. I’m on break.”

“Stanford? Wow.” She said. She was looking at him with something that suspiciously looked like pride and he decided he was never going to understand this girl.

“That’s what Angel said.”

“He knew you were there?”

“Yeah.” He saw tears in her wide eyes now, her face looking soft.

“I’d sit in class wishing I was like everybody else too.” She said.

“In college?” he asked.

“And high school.”

“How long have you been The Slayer? Have you always had that strength?”

“No. I was…just another high school kid. Well, actually, I was Miss Popular high school kid. I was called at 15.”

“Called?”

“Some British guy shows up and tells you’re the Chosen One. The one girl in all the world with the strength to fight the vampires and the demons and forces of darkness.” She recited. He could tell this was something said a lot.

“Mr. Giles is the British guy?”

“No. Well, kinda. Giles was my second Watcher.”

“Watcher?”

“That’s what the British guy is. Every Slayer has a Watcher. He’s like, book guy. Has all the knowledge of demons and vampires and everything. He trains the slayer in his charge. Helps her, guides her.”

“Wesley?” he guessed.

“He was mine and Faith’s Watcher when Giles was fired for caring too much. But I fired Wesley when he couldn’t help Angel after Faith poisoned him. I haven’t had an official Watcher since.” What the… Faith poisoned Angel? And Wesley couldn’t help? Couldn’t or wouldn’t? He got the impression there was more to it than just not being able to. She’d fired him because of it.

He heard her snort and start laughing.

“Your face!” she said. “I guess you don’t know about the dysfunctional history of the slayer family.”

If there was more of this kind of history he didn’t know how he’d ever figure anything out.

“I thought Faith and Wesley were Angel’s friends? I know they were. I saw it.” He said. Buffy looked a little guilty now.

“They are. Wesley was new. Like, fresh off the boat from England new.” She sighed. “And I guess it wasn’t really his fault. He did try to ask the Council – that’s the big organisation that runs everything; The Watcher’s Council – for an antidote, but they wouldn’t help Angel because he was a vampire. I didn’t react well to that.”

“And Faith?”

“Faith…lost her way for a while. She wasn’t exactly always on the home team. But she’s better now.” Her eyes turned away and again Connor was aware how messed up this quickly was getting.

“What did you do to her?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you fired Wesley because he couldn’t help. But if Faith is the one that poisoned him, what did you do to her?”

Buffy held his eyes and was silent for a second. “I stabbed her with her own knife and put her in a coma.” She told him.

“Oh-kay.” He said taking a step back from her.

“Like I said, dysfunctional family history. Faith and I are okay now. Angel helped her, when she…lost her way. He helped her have a second chance. That’s why they’re friends.” Buffy said with a frown as she looked away again. Connor wondered exactly how things were now. Was it jealously? The way she’d reacted to news about him, about Darla… Maybe Angel and Faith were closer that Buffy was okay with.

“What is Angel to you?” he asked her, trying to get to the bottom of it, about what mattered now.

“Oh, you like your easy questions, don’t you?” she scrunched up her nose.

“Can’t you make it simple?”

“I love him. Is that simple enough for you?”

“And he didn’t love you back?” he guessed. She was looking at him with that cutting look again, the one he was starting to dub ‘the slayer look’ in his head. God, if she was about to freak out again. He’d prefer Faith to this. Whatever Faith apparently had been, when he’d known her she had her shit together. Knew what she wanted to do and was doing it. This girl seemed like a bit of a basketcase in comparison. When she continued staring at him he tried again. “Look, I’m sorry if Angel didn’t feel the same way about you or whatever it was that –“

“You don’t know anything about Angel, do you know?” she cut him off said. The way she said it, so sure, so judging, like he was insulting his father and she wasn't okay with it. Connor was lost, again. He was back to wondering what authority she had to look at him like that.

“No.” he said honestly. With that he saw her deflate. ‘The slayer look’ was gone and instead she looked sad. She took a seat at the grouped chairs.

“What do you want to know?” she asked him. He didn’t know how to answer that. 

“I don’t know. Everything? You said you guys knew him as Angelus.”

“Yes.” she replied, tightly lipped.

“How?”

“Again with the easy questions.”

“What should I be asking then?” he asked getting frustrated again.

“I don’t know.” She said quietly. He sat down a chair away from her.

“How does a slayer love a vampire?” he tried. When a smile started touching her lips, he thought maybe he’d chosen a better one.

“I don’t think I could ever not love Angel. We tried not to, but it…” she trailed off and looked down. “The first time I met…your father,” she started again. “He was following me – he liked to do that a lot. I lead him into an alley and kicked him on his ass.” She was smiling now. “I’d just moved to Sunnydale and he was giving me these warnings about the evil deeds the local vampires were up to. I had been kind of, naively, hoping I could be done with the Slayer gig since moving from LA. It had pretty much interfered with my social life like, a lot. And I didn’t want it. So I didn’t really want to give the time of day to your dad, someone else reminding me of my destiny that I just couldn’t escape. I didn’t like it was the only thing he was interested in me for.”

“Why’d you give him it then? The time of day?”

“He ended his warnings with this.” She grasped the silver cross she had on her neck, fingering it.

“The first time he met you he gave you jewellery?” Connor asked amused. Buffy seemed to share his opinion.

“Oh he was pretty smooth.” Buffy said. “The second time he gave me jewellery was pretty special too.” she added quietly, almost like it was too herself.

“Second time?” he asked her, but she shook her head at him. She cleared her throat.

“Anyway, that alley meeting started off a series of like-dire warnings from him. It was the only time I ever saw him. It was infuriating.”

“Did you know he was a vampire?”

“Big no.”

“How’d you find out?”

“The first time we kissed.” She said a bit awkwardly.

“Did you try to kill him then?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly. “But not at first. I wasn’t going to – he’d never put me in danger, only ever saved me and helped me. I knew there was more to it, though we didn’t understand why. Giles found out that there was no record of Angel having been the typical bite and kill vampire for the previous 100 plus years.”

“How?”

“Like I said, Watcher; that's their jobs. There’s Watchers Diaries that have a lot of detail about vampires and their histories.”

“Including my father?”

"…before he got his soul, yes. And I guess Giles probably recorded stuff." she said with a frown. "Anyway. Yeah, I was confused and wasn’t going to do anything to hurt him."

“What changed?”

“Connor…” it was the first time she had said his name and it had more care to it than he’d expected.

“What is it?”

“The next part of the story…involves Darla.” She warned him.

“Oh. Is that when he killed her?”

“Yes.”

Both were quiet for a moment, Buffy being the one to talk again.

“It was a while before we actually got together.”

“So you were together then? Like, actually dated?”

“Yes, we were together. We were ridiculously in love and…happy.” She swallowed. “And then we were still ridiculously in love but less with the happy.”

“Because he was a vampire.” he assumed.

“No. Angel being a vampire wasn’t something I cared about. He did, though. He had this hang-up about me having a life with sunshine and picnics. Having a normal life with someone.” She rolled her eyes. Then she turned to him. “You know what the trigger for Angel to lose his soul is, right?”

“Magic.” He said bitterly. Buffy looked at him confused.

“No. Well, I guess, technically, but no. Happiness. Specifically perfect happiness.” She looked down. “If Angel experiences perfect happiness…he loses his soul. It’s pretty much the crappiest, twisted punishment ever.” She said angrily.

“And he was happy…with you.” He said, guessing. Though some of this was making less and less sense to him.

“Yes.”

“And he got it fixed, right? The trigger or whatever?”

“No. When he got his soul back…we tried to be together but it…” she shifted awkwardly next to him. “Knowing that if you make your boyfriend happy his evil half will show up and try to kill you and your friends again…kind of puts some pressure on a relationship, you know?”

Connor didn’t understand. He was sure his father was at the start of some kind of relationship with Cordelia, that that was what he wanted. Why was it different? Why could he risk it with her but not Buffy? And why was he okay with Cordelia being in a relationship without sun and normality but not Buffy? What was so special about Buffy Summers that his father would sacrifice for her? Unless his earlier guess was right and Buffy liked his father more than he liked her back. Was it just an excuse he’d given her? And how did he find out without her going off at him again? And did that mean he'd never known his father in happiness? He'd never really thought it about before. It hadn't exactly been the most fun time, with everything that had happened, but the idea of a lack of happiness wasn't one he'd pictured. He'd had friends, a purpose, a made family who loved him. What else was there?


	5. POV - Buffy

“Hey Buff…y” Willow looked at Connor sitting next to her and then towards the loose punchbag that still sat on the floor.

“Hey, Will.” She replied casually, not matching her friend’s confused and awkward look. 

“Uh, what’s going on?” Willow asked as she entered the room and started walking over to them.

“This is Connor.” Was all she said. “Connor, Willow.”

“Uh, Hi, Connor. Nice to meet you.”

“Right.” Was Connor’s response, some finality in his tone that made Buffy look at him.

“What?” she asked him. His eyes flicked to her and then Willow. She followed his gaze trying to figure it out. It was reminding her of something she’d seen in him earlier but she couldn’t tell what.

“Nothing. It’s just… I guess that answers the question of if anybody else remembers me.” He said with a bit of a teenage sulk to it.

Buffy frowned. What did…oh. “You’ve met Willow before?” He just rose his eyebrows in a slight acknowledgement that Buffy took for a yes. “How?” she asked him.

“She came to help find his soul when they brought back Angelus. Fred called her.”

“What?” squeaked Willow. “I mean sorry, hi? I don’t…”

“S’okay, Will.” Buffy reassured her. She looked over at Connor. His hair was covering some of his face and she couldn’t see his eyes, but he seemed pretty dismayed. It kind of annoyed her that she cared, because she did. It bothered her seeing him looking like that, confused and hurt. And it shouldn’t. She didn’t know this kid. He wasn’t really anything to her. She didn’t even know for sure if he was who he claimed to be. And yet she cared. Sighing she let Willow in on the news. “Connor is Angel’s son.” Her friend’s eyes getting comically wide almost made her laugh. Almost.

“But,” Willow started as she looked at Willow in shock, turned to Buffy with “Oh,” before focusing back on Connor with another “Ohh.” Like she’d figured it out.

“No. No Ohh.” Buffy told her, knowing what she was thinking. She knew it because it had crossed her mind too. Connor was clearly of an age that for any other non-supernatural reality would mean he’d existed throughout Buffy’s entire relationship with Angel, and she’d never known about him. She understood the conclusion Willow was drawing. She supposed that through all of this and how messed up it was, at least Angel hadn’t lied to her through their relationship about not having a kid. The fact that that was what she had to be thankful about was not a comfort. “He was only born a few years ago. He was in a demon dimension. Time moves faster there. He came back a teenager. Everything happened after Sunnydale.” Buffy explained, not pausing as Willow’s face got more and more confused and showed she clearly wanted to ask questions.

“Oh, okay,” Willow responded before continuing with questions she couldn’t help asking. “I still don’t understand. How could Angel…? I mean…he’s dead. Or, undead. How can he –”

“Prophecy.” Buffy and Connor said at the same time, making them both turn to each other and scowl.

“Oh.” Willow said. “Does Giles –“

“Yes.” Both Buffy and Connor answered again before she could finish. They scowled at each other again before Buffy got up from her chair and started pacing a little, distancing herself from Connor. He didn’t look happy about their matching answers either. Willow on the other hand looked way too amused. Buffy turned her scowl on her friend, who promptly looked away innocently.

Buffy grabbed Willow’s hand and pulled her off to the side, away from Connor. She saw him roll his eyes at her and despite the annoying caring, she wasn’t over that wanting to kick him in the shin thing either. The fact that she suspected he felt the same way about her wasn’t helpful.

“Can you tell if he’s lying?” Buffy asked her quietly as soon as they were a little away from Connor.

“Huh? You mean like interrogation? Buffy, I don’t know if –“

“No, I mean a spell. It looks like maybe Angel made some kind of deal with Wolfram and Hart – gave Connor a new life, a normal one. Nobody remembers him.”

“You don’t think he’s Angel’s son?” Willow whispered back.

“No, I do.” Buffy admitted. She wasn’t even sure why she believed it, but she did. “But he said he tried to kill Angel before. I don’t know what his intentions are. What if –“

“Right. Yeah, that would be bad. Uh.” 

“Can you reverse the spell that Angel did? Then you’d remember meeting him and maybe we’d know more.”

“Oh. Uh.”

“Magic again.” She heard Connor snort from across the room. “Right, that’ll help. How about you don’t?” 

“Any other little enhanced vampire-like abilities you wanna tell me about there?” she accused him, angry that he had her surprised and he possessed power she really was unaware of.

“I told you, I’m not a vampire.” He said defensively.

“And yet if it’s made from one and hears like one.”

“Jealous?” he taunted.

“Oh right, yeah. I, Slayer want to be a vampire.”

“Maybe. You do love one after all. Isn’t that kind of twisted enough from a slayer?”

“Uh, guys?” Willow said uncomfortably.

“And I’m not trying to kill him. I told you already. He’s dead.” Connor continued.

“He's not dead!” Buffy denied. He wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t.

“Oh right, because you can just 'tell'. Your love is just so great that you somehow just know if someone halfway across the world is alive or not.” He said sarcastically. Buffy stared at him.

“He is not dead.” She repeated steadily before leaving the room.

“She likes to run away huh” she heard Connor say. She didn’t stop.


	6. POV - Connor

“I see you got all of the mean, jerky parts of Angel’s personality then.” Willow told him cheerfully.

Connor sighed. “She winds me up. This isn’t all about her, you know. I don’t even know who she is!”

“Uh, I know I’m late to the catch-up party but why are you here if you don’t know who she is?”

“Angel left me a letter telling me if I needed anything, to find her. Only her.” He said getting sick of repeating it. Why only her? “But I’d never even heard of her before. I expected a slayer who knew what she was doing, not a love-sick one that keeps breaking down.”

“Oh, so maybe you’re the one who’s late to the catch-up party.”

“What?”

“Buffy and Angel. It’s kind of one for the ages. They love each other, the world threatens to end, they love each other some more.”

“How can they love each other that much if I’ve never even heard of her? Maybe she’s just the one who loves him and he got over her.”

“Uh, no. You’re wrong on that. It’s Angel. It’s Buffy and Angel. Besides that, they were making smoochies just before the Wolfram and Hart takeover thing.”

“What?”

“We had an apocalypse. Angel came to help save Buffy, of course. He does that.”

“But he went back to LA.” Connor said. He knew that because Wolfram and Hart had happened. He’d seen his father since and there was no Buffy.

“Well, Buffy sent him back, actually.” Connor frowned at the redhead. “Like I said, they’re one for the ages. It’s difficult to keep up. But just…trust me when I say it’s mutual. I’ve seen Angel in moods and huffs and craziness over Buffy too. Seen Angelus in the same, even.” Connor didn’t understand how the two worlds could seem to exist so exclusively. He had two lives in his mind and they were separated. One did not mix with the other. But this was different. This was a choice, it wasn’t necessary. A slayer’s world and Angel’s demon fighting one surely coincided. He didn’t understand why his father had kept them separate. Having Willow here helped. He knew she was a part of his father’s life in some way. Knew he trusted her. Faith, Wesley and now Willow all linked back to Buffy, and yet she herself was new to him.

“She still can’t know he’s alive.” He said.

“Maybe. They have a pretty strong connection. They’ve shared dreams and stuff.” Connor looked at skeptically. Shared dreams? Whatever. He couldn’t deal with this. He wanted to believe his father was alive, but he didn’t have anything tangible to show it. Some stranger’s word wasn’t enough. He couldn’t let it be. “So uh, why are you here if you don’t believe he’s alive?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. I don’t…” he looked down. “I don’t really have anybody else. Anybody who knows about…all this.”

“About Angel or the supernatural?”

“Both.” Connor answered. “And I was fine for a while, you know. Life was normal. I could…forget, sorta.” He frowned. “But then it just got hard. And I couldn’t do anything. I started getting angry, like I used to be, and I didn’t have anybody to… My parents know, about demons and stuff. At least on surface. They know I have strength. But in a way that’s harder because they don’t actually have any answers, they can’t understand, though they are ridiculously supportive about it. But they don’t know I’m not really their son. And I don’t want them anywhere near that world anyway.”

“These are your…other parents?” she asked him, seemingly trying to keep up with him. Connor nodded at her. “You properly shouldn’t piss Buffy off you know.” Willow told him, changing tracks. “Or underestimate her. If anybody can figure it out, it's Buffy. Especially when it comes to Angel. She won’t give up on him.”

The person of subject walked back into the room then, storming her way up to them. She threw a thick and heavy book onto his lap that he only caught last minute with a bit of scrambling. Her slayer look was back in place and aimed at him. “Angel, book 1.” She announced. He looked down at the book now in his hands. “It’s one of Giles’ Watcher Diaries. That’s my life you’re going to get a look at, not just Angel’s, and I swear to god if you’re here for anything that will cause Angel harm –“

“I’m not.” He interrupted her.

“And I’m just supposed to believe that.” She said hovering over him as he was still sitting down.

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Let Willow do the spell.”

“No! You can’t just do what you want. You have no idea what that will affect. My life is not a plaything for some witch!” he told her.

“Uh, okay, offended.” Willow chimed in, actually raising her hand. “And Buffy, I think Connor might have a point on this one.” Buffy turned her look on Willow, but then it melted away. 

“I know.” She conceded. “I know it wouldn’t be right. It’s not something I’d usually even…” she sighed. “You know how I feel about memory spells, Will.” She rubbed the side of her face, near her eyes. Connor saw Willow look down in response to Buffy’s comment and he was right back to that dysfunctional family history. He was starting to figure there’d be no end in sight of that kind of thing. He turned the book in his hands. Did he actually want to read it? He had no idea what was in it. Angel or Angelus? Or some other part of his father he seemed to be completely unaware of?

“Uh, I may have an idea.” Willow said, distracting him from the journal.

“What are you thinking?” Buffy asked her.

“Well,” Willow swallowed and looked at Buffy and Connor. “If Connor sort of…letsmeintohismind…” she said in a rush. “I can maybe project some memories.”

“What?! No! You’re not getting into my mind!” Connor replied. 

“You could control it!" Willow defended. "It would be all you! I wouldn’t get access to anything you don’t want. I’d just be…you know, kinda like a projector.” She said way too happily. He assumed she was trying to reassure him but he really didn’t feel it. Access to his mind, his memories and human projectors? It had been a while since he was around anybody supernatural but he didn’t remember it being like this.

“You can really do that?” Buffy asked.

“Totally workable.” Willow assured.

“Hello! I said no!” he interrupted them both.

“What if I give you something back?” Buffy said, surprising him.

“…like what?” he questioned cautiously.

“You give me a memory showing you are who you say you are, I’ll give you one of Angel.”


	7. POV - Buffy

Oh god, what was she offering. There were so many ways this could go wrong. What memory could she actually show him that wouldn’t make things even more awkward, scar him for life and potentially have him hate her – or Angel – or both her and Angel. And what about Angel? How would he feel about it? What if she ruined part of their relationship? Buffy wasn’t exactly happy that she’d apparently never been mentioned to Connor, but it was Angel’s choice. She didn’t want to betray him in any way. Having said that, he was the one that had sent his pain in the ass son to her. Who was she supposed to be protecting? Angel or Connor?

“What memory do you want to see?” Connor asked. “ _If_ I’m thinking of saying yes, which I’m not saying I am!” he added.

Buffy thought quickly. What was the best thing to see? Something that would prove who he was, something that would tell her something about Angel maybe and what the hell he’d been thinking, something that could maybe give information about finding Angel now.

“The last time you saw him.” She settled on. “You said he was in a fight he couldn’t win, at Wolfram and Hart. I want to see it.” He didn’t seem entirely put out by her request and she hoped that was a good thing. She hoped she’d chosen right. As much as she wanted to see the full back story, if she could find Angel, she’d make him give it to her himself. It would be more right that way, anyway.

“Fine.” he conceded.

“Really? I mean, great! Let’s do it then.” Buffy said. “Will?” she turned to her friend.

“Huh? Oh, right. Me. Pressure.” Willow rambled. “Do you think we should speak to Giles before we –“

“No.” both Buffy and Connor said, turning to each other with their shared interruption again.

“That’s uh, becoming a bit of a pattern.” Willow said. Both Buffy and Connor ignored her. “Okay, so. Connor, if you could…”

“Wait,” Connor said putting the journal aside and getting up. “How does it work? How do I know you won’t get full access to my mind or blow me up or do something else?”

“You don’t.” Willow told him with a smile and a wiggle of her eyebrows. For a second Buffy could swear the face he made back at the redhead was like Angel’s no nonsense, sombre one and her heart stilled. “It’ll be fine.” Her friend finally said. “You will be in control. I’m just like, the vessel, really. You’re in the driving seat. I’m just projecting it outside of you.”

“Okay,” he said taking a breath. “Okay.” He repeated. Buffy stayed quiet, figuring pushing him wasn’t going to help. “Wait,” he said again. “Can I do two memories?” he asked. Buffy was surprised but didn’t object. Wait, did that mean she had to give him two memories too? She hadn’t agreed to that!

“Why two?” she asked him.

“They kind of…go together. He came to see me at school, randomly. It’s why I knew something was wrong, and why I went to see him – the last time I saw him. We talked, a little, about him actually being my father, when he came to see me. If you want your proof, that’s it.” He said and Buffy felt a little guilty, but not guilty enough to reject the two memories.

“It’s fine,” Willow said. “Just make sure when you’re finished with the first, you concentrate quickly on the second. You have to keep focus.”

Connor nodded. And again. He was clearly gearing himself up and Buffy was struck by how young he seemed then. Then suddenly an image of Angel was in front of her and she wasn’t paying attention to much else.

She watched as Angel and Connor met for coffee. Oh god, Angel. His voice. His face stilled when Connor confronted him about parenthood. He was so nervous, holding himself back. Buffy could see the heartbreak when Connor told him he was grateful that he’d let him go – the heartbreak and the validation. Oh god, he was Angel’s son. Buffy was just finding her breath again when the image went away, shutting down and disappearing. She wanted to cry no, she needed to see more. Before she could react much at all though a second image had taken its place. This was more familiar, and worse. Seeing Angel fight, getting beat up, that was something she’d witnessed. Even if the surroundings were new. It was clearly a big space. Their offices, she guessed. She watched Angel and Connor’s exchange. Connor was so much more bubbly compared to the last few hours. He joked, he had light. He wasn’t an angry teenager. His appearance in the fight reminded her of when Angel had suddenly shown up and helped her against Caleb. It should have been her. She should have come and helped him, like he had her. She should have been there. Then Connor was clearly knocked away and she watched and listened through a blur, only seeing some of what was happening. She saw Angel fight again, more impressively than she could remember him being in Sunnydale. God, he… and then he was back to Connor. Angel told him to leave and Connor protested. Angel told him that as long as Connor was okay, Wolfram and Hart couldn’t destroy him, and told him to leave again. That kind of reminded her of her and Angel’s last exchange too, when she’d told him she’d needed a second front. She’d just needed him away. Away from the danger, away from what she didn’t have the luxury of time or energy to be able to deal with then. She’d had her moment of basking, of imagining Angel in the fight with her, before she realised it wasn’t how it was and she had to be practical, had to be the Slayer. In this, Angel had to be the dad, protect his son. After a fleeting look, Connor left, and then the image died down like the last one. All she could wonder was how different it would have been if she’d been there. Would he have sent her away too? Would she have let him? 

When she looked at the other two in the room Connor had his head down, disconnected from them. Willow looked dazed. The Wiccan was holding a hand to her temple. “Will?” she checked on her friend, helping her over to a chair. She seemed okay, just drained, maybe.

“I left him.” Connor said numbly. “I left him to die.”

Buffy squeezed Willow’s hand, waiting for her friend to squeeze back before she left her and went back to Connor. “No, Connor. You did the right thing.” He turned towards her then.

“Leaving him is the right thing?” he scoffed.

“Yes. You meant more to him than anything else. He wanted to save you, in any and all ways he could.”

“But he…”

“Connor.” She said forcefully, making sure he heard her. “You did the right thing.” He looked at her, his eyes looking lost. She didn’t have the power to convince him. She didn’t mean enough to him for him to listen to her that much, but she really hoped he was listening at least a small amount. She hadn’t really expected to see Connor wronging Angel in any way in the memories, but seeing Angel reacting to his son, and seeing Connor reacting to the memory – she was back to wanting to be nice to him. She wasn’t ready to bring up her own guilt at leaving Angel to fight alone yet, but she would try to help him.

“Come on,” she said. “We have another one to get through.” She turned to her friend then “If you’re okay to, Will?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” The redhead assured them. “Wow, that was…” Willow addressed Connor. “I can’t believe he gave you up. Poor Angel.”

“Can’t you?” Buffy said. “It’s so Angel.”

“Meaning what?” Connor asked her.

“Angel’s ultimate show of love is to remove himself from your life.”

“What? How is that love?” he asked confused.

“Because for him it’s letting you have normal, without him ruining it. He gave you the most valuable thing he thought he could: a chance at a happy life without him.” Buffy told him. Connor looked a little stunned at that. Buffy couldn’t imagine how painful it had been for Angel to give him up, have Connor forget about him. But it was so Angel, she understood it, whether she agreed with it or not. It connected her to the whole Angel having a son turning up thing a lot better. She also understood how hurt and abandoned Connor probably felt, how conflicted he felt compared to how he thought he should feel. She’d been there. But this was Angel, and this was something she could deal with.

“What uh, what memory are we going for?” Willow turned worriedly at Buffy then, most likely thinking the same as Buffy had earlier. What really could she feasibly show him?

“Were you there when he killed my mother?” Connor asked.

“Why am I starting to think you have your father’s tendency for punishment?” she said rhetorically. God, this kid. 

“We made a deal. You got your part, that’s the memory I want.” She really wanted to argue with him but what was the point? He clearly was set on it, stubbornness apparently being another father and son trait. And really, was it actually the worst memory he could choose? There was a lot worse, Buffy thought. She just also thought that seeing Angel kill Darla was asking for some so very obvious issues.

“Fine.” She agreed. “But this was before you. You were clearly born,” she gestured to his body as it existed “And Angel is Angel; he would have taken care of her when she was pregnant with you.” She tried to assure him. “I don’t know what their relationship was like after she came back, Connor.” She scrunched her nose up. She didn’t want to know anymore than she already did, frankly. “This isn’t all there is to the story.”

“Noted. Can I see it now?” he said dismissively and she frowned at him.


	8. POV - Connor

“So I just…think it?” Buffy asked Willow, standing in front of them.

“Yep.” The wiccan replied.

Buffy looked at him with a look that seemed part worried and part scolding before she sighed and closed her eyes. Connor watched Willow stare intently at her friend. Had she been looking at like that way too? He hadn’t really been aware of anything else when he’d been thinking of his chosen memories, other than the memories. He hadn’t expected to get so involved in them. He hadn’t expected to be that affected by them. He thought about the last time he’d seen his father a lot, but he didn’t end up feeling the strength of emotion he did after Willow had done whatever it what was she had done. The guilt, and the loneliness. He’d left his father alone and ultimately, it left him alone too.

Buffy’s memory came to life in front of him. Wow this was weird. She and Angel were fighting. Or nearly fighting, it seemed. Buffy confronted his father about being a vampire. Hearing Angel so casually say he’d killed his family had Connor swallowing back some anger.

He listened to his father tell the story of his soul. He’d never heard it like that before. He just said it factually. He wasn’t trying to convince Buffy. He was just explaining. Maybe he didn’t think he had to convince Buffy. Didn’t want to or didn’t need to because she was already on side, Connor wasn’t sure. Angel told Buffy he wasn’t a man and Connor was reminded of some of the ways he used to think. Then he said he wanted to kill her and Connor felt that earlier anger flare up and run through him. It didn’t matter how much good he sometimes thought his father might want to do or was capable of or preached about, somehow it always came back to shit like this. Then Buffy surrendered her weapon and offered her neck and Angel did nothing and Connor was confused all over again. He’d thought so much of the reason he couldn’t keep up with the last few hours was because of Buffy. He didn’t think it was actually that complicated, despite what Willow had said. But this… he didn’t know what this was. And this was just the start of their history? He seriously felt like he was intruding at this point, which considering this was from her head, he guessed he was.

He’d been thinking maybe Buffy had gone with two memories in return, that this was a separate one that might explain something and then the one with his mother would come afterwards, but then his mother was there. She was in full demon face and Connor had trouble seeing anything else. She was challenging both Buffy and Angel, like it was vengeance. Seemingly disgusted that Angel had chosen to help Buffy, had given up a chance to…rule with the master? Who was the master? Then his mother accused his father of loving Buffy… oh. But Connor thought they weren’t even together yet?

He watched his mother shoot his father, knowing that his father would return the favour to the end shortly. Darla kept going after Buffy, shooting at her, taunting her. Then there were other people’s voices, what he thought maybe sounded like Willow. Something about Angel having not attacked Buffy’s mom; that Darla had. Oh great, they had a that time my mom and your mom story now, Connor thought sarcastically. 

He couldn’t get past her face. She was so…ugly. She looked like a monster. And worse, happy to be one. Blonde and pale and in some stupid outfit, but it was mostly blurred. Her eyes, her fangs. That’s who his mother was. That’s what his mother was. The thing that had made him. She was gaining on Buffy’s hiding spot when she whispered “Angel.” with the most human emotion she had shown the whole memory. And then she was…gone. Nothing left of her. Because his father had staked her. Staked her to save Buffy? To prove a point? That he wasn’t like Darla? Worse than an animal.

He watched his father walk away, intensity in his face. Then the image started to dim down, before suddenly there was full image after image all flickering, one after the other and so fast he couldn’t make out what they were. It was like Buffy was literally scrolling through memories. When he looked at her her face was totally blank, showing no emotion, no movement, nothing. 

Buffy.” Willow called, but she didn’t move, neither of them did. Was he supposed to go stop her? Could he even touch her through this? 

Then the flickering stopped and it settled on something. His father was in his knees as some kind of pain went through him, causing him to gasp and fold over.

“Buffy.” Willow tried again, sounding panicked now and Connor wondered what the hell he was about to see.

A confused Angel got to his feet, asking Buffy where they were and what was going on, saying he didn’t remember. He’d never seen his father look like that. Or sound like that, as he repeated Buffy’s name like it was the only answer he needed. The pair embraced and Angel clearly took comfort from it.

“Buffy! Stop!” yelled Willow and suddenly the image died down in a blink and both women fell to the ground. Buffy was breathing deeply, exhaling in and out with shuddered breaths. Willow turned over and vomited all over the floor. 

“God, Buffy.” Cried the redhead as she wiped her mouth and practically rolled away from where she’d been sick. She sat up and leaned on her hands.

“What was that?” Connor asked them, only to be ignored.

“Buffy, your grief. I haven’t…” Willow coughed and held her hand to her temple. “Oh. I haven’t felt anything like that since Tara…” she trailed off. Connor didn’t know who Tara was. “Buffy?” she turned to her friend. Connor followed her gaze. Buffy was just sitting there, staring and breathing. Then a sob broke out from her. A painful, broken sob. 

“Buffy?” Connor tried now. He knew it wasn’t his place but fuck. The slayer in front of him gulped in air as tears fell. Connor went to go help Willow. She grabbed the hand he offered and pulled herself up. He placed his other hand on her back, balancing her as she stumbled her away over to Buffy, Connor following along. He let go of her as they reached the sobbing blonde. Willow dropped herself back down to the floor, by Buffy now, and maneuvered Buffy into her space. Buffy curled up next to her friend, settling her head on Willow’s lap. Connor took a step back from the girls. He wanted to yell at them. Tell them this is exactly the kind of trouble that magic can cause. He wanted to demand attention, demand they tell what the hell that was. What had he witnessed? And why had it reduced Buffy to a weeping girl huddled on the ground. He didn’t know how to process all this. This wasn’t answers. It didn’t provide help or resolutions. It was just more pain, more confusion and yet more upset that he couldn’t actually do anything about.

He waited until Buffy had calmed down to a random sniffle, though she still lay on Willow’s lap.

“You said Buffy’s grief – you felt it. Meaning you felt her emotions during that memory.” He saw Willow lower her head away from him even more, hiding behind her hair. “Meaning you felt mine.” He accused.

“Uh, well, maybe?” the wicca replied. 

“Funny how you didn’t mention that part when I let you in my mind. Just a projection?”

“I thought it would be helpful.” She said.

“How exactly did you figure that?”

“If I could feel… I’d know if we could trust you; your intention.” She responded sheepishly and he scoffed. 

“And why I felt it so much? And why she is now a state on the floor?” he said gesturing to Buffy still curled up on the ground.

“It’s…magnified. A little!”

“A little?” he challenged.

“You feel it more than usually just recalling it. But not as much as when it actually happened.” She excused.

“Connor,” sniffled Buffy. “It’s not Willow’s fault.”

“If you think you defending it makes it better, you are more clueless than I thought even before I got here.” He told Buffy angrily. She thought her backing would convince him? How could she think that? It wasn’t like they’d spent the last few hours as instant best friends.

“Hey!” Willow objected, trying to defend her friend. Connor rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the patience for this.

“What? You gonna invade my mind some more if I don’t fall in line?” he said.

“I didn’t invade –“ Willow tried to argue, but he was having none of it.

“Of course you did!” he yelled at her. You entered my mind, my memories, without telling me what it would really involve, without my permission for what it would involve and what it would do to me! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“I – I’m sorry.” Willow said quietly. That annoyed Connor even more because he couldn’t have a go at her anymore. She sounded so pitiful and sweet. He ran his hand through his hair frustrated, the fight leaving him. He dumped himself down onto a chair. He sat back in his seat and closed his eyes.


End file.
